


Prone to Idioms

by voleuse



Series: The Latin Root of Mercy [2]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 13:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Mercy has a human heart.</em><br/>Cooper searches for a bit of home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prone to Idioms

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the second season finale of _Twin Peaks_.  
>  The title and summary are drawn from Erika Meitner's spectacular poem, _[WalMart Supercenter](http://therumpus.net/2011/11/walmart-supercenter-a-rumpus-original-poem-by-erika-meitner/)_.

Cooper's status had long been flagged as "inactive," but Albert shepherded him into the Hoover building as a "possible witness" in Annie's disappearance. It was late afternoon, and most of the staff were either wrapping up the day's work or getting take-out for a long night haul.

Diane's office was just how he remembered it: the desk bright and busy with metal trays, two mugs of coffee (one empty, one halfway there), photos of two children and three terriers, and eight different colors of pen. The edges of the office--the plants, the chairs, the window ledge lined with cooing pigeons--those were less familiar, less vital. He had his umbrella in his hands, still. He twisted it, cleared his throat.

She looked up from her computer screen, her eyes refocusing, squinting, growing wide. "Dale?" One of her palms flattened against the desk, and the other settled over her heart. "How can you--"

"It's a long story, Diane," he said.

For a moment, her wonder flickered wry. "I've heard you tell longer ones, I'm sure."

He took a step inside, then hesitated. Took another. "Did they tell you what, what they saw?"

"That all went to the basement." She looked away. "There was talk, though. Hard to believe."

Cooper sighed. "I don't remember most of it. Just," he paused, tasting the word on his tongue before saying it, "dreams."

She smiled at him then, the smile he always pictured, every time he clicked his tape recorder on. "Tell me," she said. He moved to sit down, but she held up her hand. "But make us some coffee, first."

He laughed, then, and so did she.


End file.
